For Want
by ProfAT
Summary: We all have things that we want. Izuru wants to feel like he can be trusted. Shuuhei wants to let go and be controlled. BDSM, dom/sub dynamic. Just what it says on the tin.


**Author's note: The fact that I have now written a total one-shot of Shuuhei getting fucked without Renji makes me slightly uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable enough to stop, though. Dom!Izuru is a thing we all need deep down, don't lie to me.**

Izuru found that people rarely trusted him nowadays. Sure, they let him go about his business- allowed him to do his job and conduct his affairs as he would. Pretended nothing in their vision of him had changed.

They just stopped trusting. His friends stood on their toes around him, careful to lay a hand on his shoulder as if in fear that he would collapse beneath their fingers, that any faith instilled would tremble and fall over a baseless support. Izuru couldn't blame them, surely if the roles were reversed he would feel the same.

After his captain left, that's when people stopped trusting him. But there was at least always one person willing to stay by his side and be honest with him, Hisagi Shuuhei was kind of funny like that. Both lost their captains, but both had been unwilling to put aside their duties to their struggling squads. They had persevered through the war, and they had survived without need for such frivolous things such as trust.

Shuuhei had always been there to give Izuru what he needed. The scarred man could read him like an open book, comfort him and support him the way no one else did. Shuuhei didn't need to earn Izuru's trust, he had it from the very start.

But yet, as the poet hath writte again and again: "What goes around comes around." Shuuhei needed support too, needed someone to trust. Shuuhei needed someone he could put all his control and power into, and let himself submit.

Izuru just didn't think it would be quite in so specific in nature. He remembered the first time Shuuhei came to him with the proposal. It had been in Shuuhei's living quarters, in fact. He could remember the way the older man's calm, rational exterior fell apart. He stammered, face flushing as his eyes looked all about the room, pupils focusing on anything but Izuru's face.

And as for Izuru? He had been shocked to say the least. Shocked, but not uninterested.

He would be lying if he said he didn't have fun. It demanded some kind of quality of ironic amusement to bring the respectable Vice-Captain Hisagi Shuuhei to his knees. If he wasn't careful, Izuru could quickly become fond of Shuuhei's expression in that state- grey eyes blown wide with desire and vulnerability, looking up at him with submission drawn on his features as deeply as the heated blush across his cheeks.

The clothes were the first thing to go. Izuru stripped him, revealing a smooth, toned frame. Shuuhei is more muscular than he, taller, just all around bigger. But when Izuru stood above Shuuhei, looking down at the man kneeling bare he considers that Shuuhei has never looked so delicate, so breakable. Next, Izuru removed the choker and the armband, Shuuhei's last defense, leaving him truly without weapon or means to defend himself. Only then was he truly exposed.

Then comes the bondage, long strips of fabric as black as night wrapped and tied around strong arms. Shuuhei's hands were tied behind his back, letting himself be bound. There's nothing left except pure trust for Shuuhei to give Izuru, that and submission when Izuru leaned down and tipped Shuuhei's head up to kiss him roughly until Shuuhei's lips blossomed with bruises.

Before Izuru could progress however, he had to be sure. Dominance means nothing if it isn't earned. He stroked Shuuhei's hair, fingers brushing the coarse spikes, "Are you okay?"

Shuuhei growled, his expression pained with need and desire. "Yes, I'm great. Just- don't stop, I swear, Izuru, if you stop-"

That earned a sharp tug on his hair, which in turn drew a squeak of pain. Izuru smirked, lips twitching upwards as he regarded Shuuhei with a fondness, but his eyes held a hot glint of possession. He spoke, in a cold voice echoing authority, drawing shivers down Shuuhei's spine. "Was that an order? Why Shuuhei, you mustn't forget who's in charge here."

That out of the way, they progress. Izuru drew Shuuhei across his lap, a strangled noise of both excitement and embarrassment coming from the dark-haired man, followed by a sharp cry as Izuru's hand struck his ass. The cries turn to moans, Izuru's satisfied smirk growing wider as pink blooms on Shuuhei's backside. He predicted that Shuuhei won't be making any trips to public bathhouses or showers in the near future.

Each spank came with the same resounded noise of skin hitting skin with Shuuhei's back arching, angling his ass to meet each of Izuru's strikes. Izuru doesn't stop until he hears the telltale noise of keening and whimpering to know that Shuuhei is drawing close. He grabbed Shuuhei by the hair again, dragged him off his lap until he's kneeling on the floor, looking up at Izuru as he stands over him. Only then did Izuru shed his own clothes, letting Shuuhei watch hungrily but unable to do anything, even touch him against the restraint of his bindings.

When Izuru stood naked in front of Shuuhei at his feet did the blond lieutenant give the next demand. "Suck."

One word, and that's all it took. Shuuhei leaned, baring his neck as he lapped at Izuru's head, licking it almost lovingly. the scarred man adopted the most blissful expression, as if in worship, as he takes Izuru into his mouth, lips wrapped around his cock and sucking wholeheartedly. Shuuhei seemed reluctant to withdraw even when Izuru gives the command to stop, pulling back and looking up at the blond hopefully, knowing what is to follow.

For his next trick, Izuru moved behind Shuuhei, pressed him forward until Shuuhei lowered himself to the floor. Cheek pressed to the floor, Shuuhei spread his legs, the red of his spanked ass in the air. His spine arched, pressed his rear higher and Izuru's fingers deeper as Izuru stretched him with two lube-coated fingers. Shuuhei whined, high and strained but Izuru takes his good sweet time. And why shouldn't he? With Shuuhei at his mercy, he is doubtlessly and without question in control.

He entered Shuuhei with a self-gratifying moan, enveloping himself in the heat. Shuuhei contributed in the form of moans, whimpers of pleasure, at times even cries and sobs from hard thrusts, from the timed rolls of Izuru's hips setting a strict regime of a pace to work Shuuhei up so painfully slowly.

Shuuhei released first with a scream, calling Izuru's name among waves of profanity. It's a sacred sound, a private sound for these moments and these moments alone. Even then, as Shuuhei's cum dripped down his thighs Izuru doesn't stop, he continued thrusting into Shuuhei and working himself to the edge until his own climax and then it's over in a flash of blinding white.

He leaned over and presses kisses to the back of Shuuhei's neck as he undoes the ties from around Shuuhei's arm.

Once freed, Shuuhei collapsed. He curled in on himself, looking very small and vulnerable with his face hidden in his knees. Izuru moved to sit next to him, guiding Shuuhei's head to rest on his thigh as he stroked his hair.

"Are you embarrassed? Izuru asked, eyes not leaving the man beside him, absorbing every detail about Shuuhei in these rare moments of exposure.

Still hiding himself, Shuuhei noded. "Yes."

"Don't be. Being ashamed of something you have no reason to apologize for is weak."

Shuuhei uncurled himself just the slightest bit, looked up at Izuru's blue gaze. He asked, with a tilt in his voice, "Do you think I'm weak?"

Izuru smiled before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Shuuhei's forehead. "Never, Shuuhei. Not in a million years."


End file.
